On Fire
by makkattackk
Summary: Four years ago, a normal girl from Gotham City was given powers she couldn't imagine, and they changed her life forever. After being seen using her powers, one member wants to recruit her. Will she join and what happens if she does? Takes place during Denial and continues afterwards. OC Character. I'm the worst at summaries. I'll read yours if you give mine a try.
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys! This is the intro to my new story, On Fire. OC fanfiction is by far the hardest in my opinion. You have to keep everyone else in character while also creating an awesome one of your own, but what can I say? I uploaded the first two chapters right away, as it felt like a great time to break the first one in half, and I didn't want to only upload the second chapter, as it's pretty short. Please review and let me know what you think.

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Skyler felt the explosions before she heard them. She usually did. The vibrations seemed to shake her from the inside out, just like they shook the already unstable walls of her tiny Gotham City apartment. Another crack split down through the dry-rotted crown molding and paint dust poured from the ceiling. The glasses hummed harmonically on the counter and the kitchen fan spun slowly with anticipation and finally she heard them. She heard the ground cracking and glass shattering and already her ears were ringing.

She sighed loudly and put down the book she had barely gotten to start, making her way to the front windows to locate the source. Absentmindedly, she clicked on the old police scanner she always kept handy and as if on cue, flashing blue and red lights accompanied by the familiar blare of sirens buzzed by. A thick plume of deep gray smoke filled the sky, emanating from a building that seemed to be no more than a few blocks away. She had been all too lucky that the explosions weren't closer or any more powerful, for surely the old building wouldn't have been able to handle it, and she'd be standing in nothing but rubble and choking on clouds of the same dry-rot dust that still floated down from the ceiling.

The police scanner next to her finally crackled to life but it filled the room with only static. She leaned over, fiddling with the dials, not believing that the airways were quiet. Satisfied that she couldn't just fix a problem with the station, she began to feel a little worried, like maybe something serious was going on and she should be there already.

Her closet was still open from her mad dash to work last night allowing her to quickly push the hanging clothes to each side and roughly kicked the bottom of the only reinforced wall in the shithole apartment. On command, the back panel sprung forward and spun once vertically, revealing her makeshift costume. The smell of singed fabric already wafted up from the clothing, but it was quite fitting, so she just let it be.

Wasting no time, she yanked furiously at her tank top and replaced it with a deep red corset and a worn, brown jacket that frayed endearingly at the leather cut off sleeves. Next, she slipped out of her sweatpants and pulled on the bottom half of her costume: ripped, fireproof, dark wash jeans and thick brown leather boots. Finally, she tugged the finishing touch, a bronze domino mask, into place over her freckles. She shook out her long wavy hair, which was more orange than red in the morning sun, and made her way to the door. As she slammed it behind her, she heard the reassuring click of the panel spinning back into place and the keys to her motorcycle jingling in her pocket. She was ready.

On her bike, it took only moments to arrive at the scene, which wasn't hard to find in the slightest. She parked across the street, hidden in the shadows and all but tiptoed towards the building. The Gotham Federal Bank's marble columns rose up above her somewhat majestically, smoke and debris clouding her vision and stinging her eyes. Just like the walls of her apartment, cracks were visible, radiating upwards from what was once the door, but was now completely gone. This building though, much unlike hers, stood strong and steady. The street was eerily silent, and although she couldn't see the officers and their car now, they had to be nearby. She stuck close behind one of the marble columns, struggling to wait patiently for the thug on patrol to stroll past. Controlling her breathing was difficult with the adrenaline rushing through her, but she managed to long enough for the man to stop directly in front of the column. Silently, she slid her arm around the pole, sending an electric charge down through her fingertips like a civilian taser, and he slumped to the floor unconscious. She pulled him by the collar of his jacket, and positioned him to sit nonchalantly against the wall. As she peered around the corner, she quickly saw why the building was so devoid of noise. Two officers were face down on the floor, one lying in a puddle of blood but still breathing, and the other sickeningly still. Their radios hissed the same static she had heard before, perfectly in sync with the large metal machine throbbing in the corner.

_Must be some sort of radio jammer, _she reasoned. A man stood in front of the machine, dressed in all black, and turned the dial idly. She was never good at stealth, always wanting to strike rather than lay in wait, but she easily shocked this man like the one before him and stashed him away too, this time, behind the strange machine. The officer on the ground looked at her with pained eyes, his side still bleeding profusely, and she nodded back.

"Hang on." She mouthed to him and headed for the vault, which stood wide open.

Three men stood inside, two of which were dressed in black like the other men, and one who was dressed in a sharp blue suit, and was ringing his hands nervously in front of him. A gun was held to the last man's head, and he stared at the ground in fear.

"Please," he begged, "I have a family: a wife, three children. You have access to the money. Now just let me go."

"SHUT UP! What about the gold?!" the closest man screamed, clearly having none of the man's pleas.

_Time to finish this,_ she thought, edging forward.

One man leaned against the wall while the other handed him bag after bag to be set just outside the door. Seeing the opportunity, she took it. Each one of her electric fingers sent a jolt through the vault's metallic walls and into the man's shoulder, knocking him to the floor and leaving him shaken but still conscious. All three men looked confused, but before they could spot her, she ducked safely behind the door. The standing thug shook his head, pulled the other off the ground, and kept packing. He turned away, and now, she charged, sending the man's gun flying through the air and outside the vault with a swift kick. She stuck both her arms out horizontally, and before they knew what was happening, they were slammed backwards and bounced off the metal walls.

"What happened here?" Skyler asked the last standing man simply, his eyes wide and watery.

"They - they wanted the gold. It was moved here yesterday. But it wasn't in here. It's kept under the vault, and they were furious. They shot those officers." He was babbling.

"Why bother with jamming the radio?" she wondered aloud, but he had an answer.

"It's a message to all crooked cops, on a special frequency, in a special tone. It tells them to stay away. Tells them not to respond." She looked at him suspiciously, but he added, "I heard the mechanic telling the newbie watching the door all about it."

"The cops!" she exclaimed and headed again for the lobby.

"What should I do?!" the man called after her, waiting for commands like a child.

"911?" she said, expecting the man to know this already. "Commissioner Gordan's a straight shooter. Ask for him, and tell them to send an ambulance."

Suddenly the man was behind her, and grabbed her arm firmly.

"You saved my life." He all but stuttered, "I should thank – "

"Don't mention it." She said modestly, and tried to shake him off. His grip held firm.

"But how can I repay you – "

"Really, don't mention it. Take the credit for this if you have to. Just leave me out of it." And now she did shake off his grasp, shoving him towards the phone for motivation.

Too much time had passed already, she was sure of it, but when she knelt down next to the fallen officer, his breath still came steadily. She gently rolled him over, and he let out a reassuring grown.

"Are you alright?" she asked, knowing it was a stupid question, but not sure what else she could say to him. She pushed his hair off of his face and smiled down at the man.

He was young. No more than twenty-two, with light gray eyes that winced in pain and light brown hair that stuck to him with sweat. His blue uniform was soaked even darker with thick blood just under his ribcage. No doubt the bullet had grazed his liver. She pulled him over and leaned him against the teller's station.

"Just stay here. I'll be right back."

"Where do you think I'm going to go?" he asked her with good humor, then grasped at his side.

She grabbed both unconscious thugs by an ankle, and pulled them into the still open vault. Both of them had empty pockets, besides their guns, and neither of the other two had secrets to share either. She looked them up and down, but no identifying marks were obvious. She couldn't help but wonder just who they were working for that needed that much gold, but she pushed the thought aside, stepped out of the vault, and spun it closed, heading for the injured man.

On the way, she knelt down next to the other officer, but it was as she had suspected. She pressed her fingers to his neck harder, thinking she was wrong, but still… nothing. A small wave of guilt washed over her. He had been one of the good guys. She desired nothing more than to pull him over and set him up respectfully, but her priority was the living man, who still sat bleeding in the corner. She returned to his side, singeing a small hole in his sleeve with her thumb, allowing her to tear it off. She pressed the fabric gently to his wound, which looked like a through and through, and told him to keep pressure on it.

Suddenly, she felt a gust of wind at her back, and she felt the presence of two figures behind her. Assuming it was more thugs, she spun around on the floor, leg out like a speed bump, knocking the two behind her to the ground. But to her surprise, it wasn't more goons coming for the gold. It was Batman and Robin.


	2. Chapter 2

On the inside, Skyler was mortified. She berated herself internally for acting before thinking, and for not scoping out the situation. Her stomach churned with nerves and she swallowed loudly to hold back a gasp. This wasn't just any old pair of heroes stunned in to silence on the ground in front of her. It was Batman and Robin, the theoretical King and Prince of Gotham. They were the very last people she wanted to embarrass herself in front of, and here she was, looking like a rookie, but there was no way in hell she was going to let them see her lose her cool. Instead, she inhaled calmly and outstretched a hand to them both.

Robin, who looked slightly less imposing up-close, stared at her skeptically, an eyebrow rising up over his mask. She felt like he could read the regret in her eyes, but she hardened her face, making the commitment to stay collected as she spoke.

"My apologies, gentlemen. It seems there's been a case of mistaken identity."

The pair still looked unsure and alert, as if they were deciding whether or not she was a viable threat, so she felt the need to lighten the mood.

"What you don't trust me? That's fine. But please, you two, we're in public, get off the ground." At this fake chastisement, Robin chuckled and grabbed her hand gratefully, Batman following suit. The duo looked around, somewhat confused, and Robin was the first to speak.

"So… where's the fire?" Skyler bit her tongue to prevent laughing from the irony.

"Well, I guess I put it out." She told them simply, but they stared at her expectantly, so she continued, "The four guys that are now locked in the vault were after gold bars. The only hostage was the bank manager, but he left to call the police. One officer's wounded, the other was DOA." She stood there for a second longer, then with a nod, she headed for the door. She was sure they could handle it.

"You've done good work here, kid." Batman called after her, then began taking charge of the scene. Eventually, his footfalls told her he was headed for the vault, surely with the soft stepping Robin close behind.

Now that Batman and Robin were there to handle everything, she wanted nothing more than to leave. She hadn't slept in two days, doing her best to juggle school work, actual work, and nightly patrols. She wanted to strip off the uniform and crawl into bed, but she couldn't. The young officer still sat by the door bleeding, eyes closed tight. She couldn't sit by and wait for someone else to get him some help, it needed to be her. She knelt beside him and instinctively grabbed for his radio, only to remember the still pulsing machine in the corner.

"I almost forgot." She mumbled quietly, standing back up. She held her hand like child would mock a gun, aimed it at the machine, and as she flicked her thumb, a bolt of white lightening shot through the air, hitting its target head on.

"Bang."

In a shower of sparks, the jammer blew, putting an end to electronic hiss.

"Oh, I'm feeling the aster!" Robin said from across the room, causing her to jump, and she mentally kicked herself for using her powers so openly in front of him, and so animatedly at that.

"You're what?" she asked, trying to avoid that it had happened at all. He clearly wasn't going to let it go though, as he stood there in what she thought was awe, looking quite surprised. She was getting ready to zap him out of his stupor when she felt a tug on her arm that pulled her back to what was important. The officer stared up at her and she knelt back to his side and again grabbed the radio.

"Who _are_ you?" she heard Robin question, but she ignored his incredulous tone and clicked on the radio.

"Ten-thirteen, officer down. I repeat officer down. Gotham Federal Bank. Send a bus." She began to stand, thinking that Robin would stay with the officer, but he gripped tight to her arm, leaving a bloody handprint like a bracelet on her wrist.

"Will you stay with me?" he asked, pleading eyes staring into hers. She didn't even have to think about it as she nodded and forced a smile. She gave his hand a comforting squeeze and used the other to clot his gunshot wound.

"What's your name?" She thought distracting him would be best.

"Blake." He told her, attempting a smile of his own, "And I'd ask you yours, but I have a feeling you wouldn't tell me anyway."

"Well where's the fun in that? Besides, it doesn't matter all that much anyway, does it?"

"Well it's not every day a civilian takes down a whole bank robbery by themselves. Not every day a civilian saves my life."

Skyler feigned hurt, "I look like a regular civilian to you?"

Chuckling, he guessed again, "Vigilante?"

"You're getting warmer", she jested.

Outside, an ambulance wailed and as it came to a stop, the siren died. The officer was pale, but looked relieved. He had lost a lot of blood, but help was here. She heard the back doors open and a stretcher being set up. The man brought her hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on her bloody knuckles. Then he whispered, the ghost of a single word floating from his lips. His head fell gently back, but his breathing was strong. He was unconscious. The stretcher was on its way, and that was her cue. She finally headed for the door, relief of her own setting in.

"Hey!" Robin called, but she wanted to leave, so she kept on walking. He easily caught up with her, and kept talking, but didn't try to stop her.

"I'm a part of this team, you see, and it's kind of made of people like us. We used to just be sidekicks, like me, like you. And I saw what you did in there. It was incredible. I think you should come meet them."

"I'm nobody's sidekick," she told him, increasing her speed, "And I like to work alone."

"But I think you could do great work with us!" he insisted, matching her pace.

"I do enough great work all on my own." She told him, pausing to evaluate whether or not that sounded conceited.

"You won't even meet them? What's the worst that could happen?" With this, she stopped and turned to him, getting into his face to drive the point home.

"Look, I'm flattered you want me to join you're little club, but I'm not interested. I guess you could say I don't really play well with others. So you fight your bad guys, and I'll fight mine."

A crowd was gathering outside like they always tended to do, and she used this to her advantage, slipping behind one gawking man or another. She knew Robin did his best to catch up, but he hadn't realized her plan until it was too late, and she was able to slip into anonymity in the crowd.

A tinge of guilt hit her in the stomach, telling her maybe she shouldn't have rejected him so roughly. Maybe she shouldn't have brushed him off and disappeared into the crowd, but it was too late for regrets now. And then the word the man had whispered made sense, and she shook her head, not believing she hadn't understood it before.

The word he had whispered left her dizzy. She had never considered it of herself before. He had called her a hero. A _hero_.

And in her mind, the only way to stay that way was to be by herself. This was how it had to be. Maybe even forever.

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Please review and let me know what you think! (:


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